


No Time for Anything but Time

by therune



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-11 16:44:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16479188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therune/pseuds/therune
Summary: Inside Stilton's manor, Emily finds a time piece and thinks of all the things she'd do if she could travel back in time. The fact that it's impossible doesn't stop her from trying to save her mother by killing Daud. She succeeds, but that makes everything worse.





	1. A Shadow in Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is the self-indulgent time-travel alternate universe split dimension fic I thought about writing for two years or so.   
> I have the first chapter written and Emily already dragged me off course and I am looking forward to seeing how I'll write myself out of that dilemma later. 
> 
> There is a warning for character death, but this is a time travel fic. It might not be as permanent as it could be.

Emily held the time piece in her hand for an age. It felt reminiscent of the heart, but different. Polished stone, colored glass, not made by human hand, fanning out to see time. She looked at the empty corridor – dark, dusty and with broken furniture lining the walls. With a flick of her wrist, the glass clacked open and she saw through it the same corridor, unchanged and changed by the years. It was well-lit, she could tell even through the color distortion of the glass. The floor was polished, there were priceless portraits on the walls and the expensive furniture at its proper place. If she thought about it too much, she'd go mad. 

Time was a river, always moving forward, never stopping. Time was inevitable. Reversing it was impossible.   
But then, so were other things. 

No one could transcend several meters in the blink of an eye. No one could see through walls. No one could feel a rune melt into their bones, feel it sing and feel its power rush through one's body. But Emily could do all of this. 

 

The Outsider did this to her, gave her this. He gave her the heart and he gave her the time piece.   
It stood to reason that as she could cross between places in an impossible manner, so she could cross between times in a similar fashion. The mark on her hand was silent.   
The Outsider was silent. 

She flicked the timepiece open and shut. Now. Then. Now. Then.   
Could she take it with her? Could she carry it all the way back to Dunwall?   
Delilah could be stopped this way. If Corvo hadn't been alone, if they hadn't been betrayed, if Emily had been at his side, marked and armed and ready to face Delilah back then...

If … her train of thought began to unravel. Could she stop the treason? Could she stop Ramsay? Abele? Delilah before she even began? 

The Heart beat a pulse against her chest and she almost let the timepiece fall.   
What if she could stop everything before it began? She'd often lay awake, pondering over lost possibilities, chances gone by. Over the road not taken and the path less traveled. Inevitably her thoughts would turn back to that day, to her mother's death. To the day Corvo had been taken away, blamed for her assassination while her murderer went free. Daud was still free, somewhere.   
If she could kill the Knife of Dunwall, she'd save everyone. If she could... her mind reeled from the possibilities. 

She's seen the effects even a small change could make. How a door opened then, could make the present a different place. How a raindrop could become a waterfall. How a life or the loss of one could affect everything. 

Was this how going mad felt like? A fever burnt through her brain, consuming her rational mind with one thought over and over until there could be no room for anything else in her head. Stop Daud. Stop Daud. Stop Daud.   
He'd be surprised. Prepared for Corvo, weary from travel and bad news, strong but unmarked. But not prepared for her. Never for her. 

Once she decided that she would do it, there was no stopping Emily Kaldwin. If it was impossible, well, no one had explained it to her well enough. The Outsider had given her the means: the timepiece and her powers. The will was her own. 

Emily gripped the time piece tightly, until the edges dug into her skin and broke it. Her blood flowed over the artefact and the mark glowed, first flickering like a weak candle, then gaining in strength until it blazed like a bonfire. It went dark around her, the mansion faded like a bad dream until there was nothing but the blackness of the void, nightsky without stars and black stone. 

“Oh Emily,“ the Outsider said. It was impossible to tell if he was disappointed, sad, angry or merely indifferent. 

She had no time to reply, no time to think, no time for anything but time. She felt something crack and didn't know if it was the timepiece or her own hand. There was a small strand of light, like through the crack of an attic door with motes of dust dancing in old air. It tugged at her and cut deep, like it was affixed to her heart and she kept ripping at it. It sliced her hands and they bled as she turned in the other direction, following it. She didn't know if her feet walked, or she imagined the sensation. There was nothing but the light, every touch to the strand flashed in her like lightning, brought forth a memory. She was on Megan's ship. She was in Jindosh's lab. She had just arrived in Karnaca. She hadn't arrived yet. She was on sea and back in Dunwall Harbor.   
Like rope, the strand began to coil around her arms. She tugged and tugged, feeling more and more resistance with every time she pulled an older and older memory. Her studies. Wyman. Training. Alexei. Corvo. The Coronation. 

Emily didn't know how long it took to reach all the way back. Were her hands more than bone? Or even less, shadows and power, held together by her will?   
She saw Dunwall saved from the Plague, happy people and yet she went back further. There was death coming and more death to follow. The Plague came to Dunwall and Emily with her. Another flash and she was at Kingsparrow Island. Blinding white and she was in the lighthouse at the Hounds Pit Pub. Inside the Golden Cat. Dragged away by a Pendleton twin. Further and further and further. Her mother dead. Corvo held by tendrils, suspended and helpless as she was killed. Grimly she prevailed. Back, more and more. Emily was there. She saw herself, hiding behind her parents, eyes fearful. And this was the right moment. Two assassins were already in the gazebo and now their master joined them. Now. 

She wound the strand around her hands and held on. The memory flashed in and out. But Emily couldn't be stopped. She concentrated and pushed her will, pulled with all her might, with everything she was and would be.   
Something cracked and she couldn't tell if it was the world or her. She thrust her hands forward and they were the shadowy claws she'd see when she traveled from place to place. She was a shadow in time and now she had found her prey.   
With a grunt, she rammed them into Daud's chest and he could see her then. As she tore through fabric and then skin, the strand around her fingers glowed dimmer. The timepiece shattered, shards digging into her skin and Daud's chest. There was no time for him to scream because there was no time at all. 

Mindless, she dug into him, into his body and who he was. And inside of him, there was another strand of glowing light. She tore at it and it hurt. Ripping herself apart for this hadn't hurt as much as touching this strand. She was touching Daud, who he was and what he'd done, his life until that fateful point in time. She felt herself unravel, her future coming to ruins under her own fingers. Emily ripped and roared. The strand frayed and snapped and then there was a scream.


	2. Chapter 2

Corvo's worst nightmare had come true. There were assassins coming for Jessamine and Emily and there was nothing he could do. The masked men had appeared like they had stepped out from a nightmare into reality. He'd tried to fight, but there were too many. Then the world lurched under his feet and something dragged him. An invisible hand tore him from his place and held him immobile in the air. It was like being held in a narrow cage or trapped in a fisher's net – constricting and inescapable. He could only watch as another man came. In contrast to the others, he was not masked. But the only thing Corvo would focus on was the sword in his gloved hand. It lacked elegance and beauty. This sword was not a work of art like his – it wasn't a weapon. It was an instrument and it would be used to kill Jessamine. Corvo knew it and he felt that it was inevitable. He was bound and no help was coming. No guards had come, but they had to have heard the commotion, must have heard him fighting for his and their lives.   
Jessamine shoved Emily behind her and faced the attacker, fear in her eyes.   
Corvo screamed, begging for any gods out there to hear. For anything. 

Then the man stopped and Corvo couldn't see why at first.   
Another figure had come into the gazebo. No, it was as if the figure had always been there. Not like the assassins appearing out of thin air. From one moment to the next, this figure just was. It looked less like a man and more like a monster. Dark tendrils held onto the assassin, immobilizing him and it attacked. Corvo was too far away to make out any details, but the figure riped into the man like it was a wild animal attacking its prey. It tore at his chest and then there was an ungodly shriek. He fell to the ground, hard, his head smacking against the stone.  
The force that had held him dissipated.   
“Run,“ a voice yelled and the assassins tried to escape from the garden. Corvo tried to get up, but his arms wouldn't hold him. Blackness crept into his vision and it was as if everything suddenly was far away. He lost consciousness. 

The world shuddered, chilled and afraid. This was not meant to happen. Emily had broken the rules. This was not how time worked. Emily unraveled her destiny, her being with every step backwards she forgot who she was and who she had become. Soon there were no memories, no experiences until that day.   
She had found the same thing in Daud, the story of his life and him as the sum of his memories. She ripped and ripped until it tore and with it, it tore Daud as well. He unraveled like yarn, splitting into fine strands, similar yet different, all held together at one starting point. She couldn't take his then, but she could take his now and erase it.   
Her mother's murderer was gone, the Knife of Dunwall was gone, but it had not been the end of Daud. 

“No!“ she roared, pain and bitter disappointment in her voice, monstrous as it had become. In front of her, there was Daud, changed by her actions and he did not stand alone. She had torn him into pieces, into different lives, and those lives were now staring at her. It was Daud, inexplicably, times five. Five men now stood where the Knife had been. All similar, yet different. 

Jessamine called for the guards again, had been calling since Emily's appearance, but somehow she hadn't heard. Corvo was still unconscious on the floor, a trickle of blood next to his head. Emily was hiding behind her mother, but that wasn't right. Emily was here. Emily was right here.   
Why was Mommy screaming? 

“Fascinating,“ one of the men said. He wore a blue coat, lined with fur. Spectacles were perched on his face and he leant down to get a better look at Emily. No, that wasn't.... she was as tall as him. Emily was.... Emily was 10 years old. She was standing behind her mother and she was standing in the middle of the gazebo. 

The world recoiled in horror at the impossibilities it had created. Hand clasped tightly around her mother's blouse, Emily Kaldwin stared at Emily Kaldwin. She was hiding from the attackers and yet she was standing where the monster had stood. The powers of the void had faded. Without her mother's murder Emily's life had been changed. She would no longer be interesting. She would receive no mark from the Outsider.   
“Mommy?“

The world lurched and a figure in red appeared, whaler mask trained on the strange men. The figure seized one by the arm, quicker than thought, and in a flutter of ash, it was gone and so was the man.   
The men shouted in shock, stepping back and looking around warily, as if it could happen again. 

Finally the guards came, Burrows in the front. 

“The Empress,“ he called and halted in his tracks. His wildest imaginations couldn't have prepared him for this reality. Instead of finding the empress dead or, due to Corvo's untimely return, his assassin slain, he was witness to a most peculiar scene. 

The Empress' back was turned. She had placed herself between her fallen bodyguard and her child, acting as a barrier between their attackers.   
And in front of her, there was Emily Kaldwin and Daud... and Daud again, again and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no going back.
> 
> I've finally dared to write my self-indulging fic which is 4 Daud AUs in one featuring time travel and waxing philosophy about time travel and which asks the question if a man (or timelord) is indeed just the sum of their memories.  
> There will be no timelords in this, I just liked the quote.


End file.
